


Hey, Young Blood

by doctorziegler



Series: Like Phoenixes [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (if you squint), Age Difference, Cyborg Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 11:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7638289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorziegler/pseuds/doctorziegler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genji decides to steal 76′s jacket on a whim. A heated chase ensues. Then, even hotter sex ensues. Alternately titled: Jack Morrison Is a Dirty Old Man, While Genji Shimada Is a Huge Damn <i>Brat</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Young Blood

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://monsterboysandrobots.com/post/147812081433/happy-birthday-to-one-of-my-dearest-friends) incredible fanart of genji wearing jack’s jacket, and because i am a weak person who gets attached to ships no one else likes.
> 
> [ [twitter](https://twitter.com/heatvisions) / [nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/DOOOMZO) ]

“Hey, punk— gimme back my jacket.”

“Maybe this will teach you not to leave such tempting things laying around in plain sight,” Genji stated, in as matter-of-fact a tone as one could manage with an ear-to-ear grin on one’s face. “I wanted to try it on. What’s the harm in that?” 

Jack scowled, the expression bone-chillingly obvious even when obscured by his mask. (Not that Genji found Jack to be ‘bone-chilling’; quite the opposite, really. This was _fun_.) “I’m _warning_ you, Shimada. If you’ve still got it on by the time I count to three—”

“You think that I can’t outrun you, _oyaji_?”

“I _know_ what that word means, you little shit; now, give me back my—”

Genji grinned, hopping up onto the table and out of Jack’s immediate range. “You’ll have to catch me first, ‘old man’.” The cyborg zipped Jack’s trademark Soldier: 76 jacket halfway up his cybernetic torso, offering the man a friendly sign of peace with two fingers before flipping away, movements so rapid that Jack would have undoubtedly lost sight of him without the assistance of his visor.

Jack exhaled loudly, not bothering to leave Gabriel a note regarding where he’d disappeared to— he’d be back in no more than a few minutes, anyway. 

Hell, breakfast’d probably still be warm by the time he’d put that damn brat of a ninja in his place. “Kids these days,” Jack muttered, “think everything’s a damn joke.” He took a deep breath before dashing out the door, chasing after Genji with the unmatched speed and determination of a super-soldier. 

A super-soldier with _arthritis_ , mind you, but a super-soldier just the same.

 _Goddamn rainy weather_.

 

* * *

 

Jack played Genji’s game for no longer than twenty minutes before losing what little of his patience the ninja hadn’t already obliterated with his shitty attitude, forcing himself into overdrive in an attempt to back Genji into both a literal _and_ proverbial corner. Neither man had their weapons on them; this wasn’t a battle, and Jack didn’t intend to actually _shoot_ the kid.

But if they got into a fistfight, Jack was convinced Genji wouldn’t stand a chance.

Metal plating be damned.

With each beat of Genji’s thundering heart, Jack seemed to be closing in, getting nearer and nearer until the younger man could hear Jack’s labored breaths, could imagine that he could _feel_ them, too, Jack breathing down the back of his neck like a predator only moments away from catching its prey.

The only thing that Genji could do that Jack _couldn’t_ was scale walls, which meant that Genji’s only current means of escape— and chance to wear the jacket for just a few minutes more— was to get himself high enough that Jack would have to find a new way up to him, which would both piss Jack off _and_ buy Genji a little more time with which to play this game of cat and mouse.

“Isn’t it always you who tells us we should not become overconfident in our abilities?” Genji remarked, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the rapidly-approaching soldier behind him. “Ninja _don’t_ get caught—”

As Genji leaped upward, Jack lunged, chest slamming into the wall as Genji scrambled to scale it, hardly even realizing that Jack had caught the cyborg’s ankle in a vice grip above his own head. “I’m _never_ cocky,” Jack insisted, momentarily amused at the panicked whirring sound that escaped Genji’s body as he realized that Jack was a lot quicker on the uptake than he’d given the old man credit for. Jack pulled; still, Genji refused to let go.

Genji pushed back and off of the wall in a final act of defiance, hoping to knock Jack off-balance with the entirety of his weight— but, of course, Jack took it without any difficulty, Genji’s ankles now both held fast in his gloved hands. The cyborg was practically standing atop his shoulders, now, his own grip on the ledge he’d been hoping to pull himself up and over loosening as he began to admit defeat. Jack smirked from behind his mask, casting a glance upward to try to catch Genji’s eye— and—

“... Oh.”

Holy _fuck_.

The last thing Jack could remember seeing before his own hands went slack around Genji’s ankles was _the_ prettiest cunt he’d ever laid eyes on, nestled _right_ there, _right_ above him, between Genji’s thighs, as if that perfectly sculpted ass needed anything more to make it irresistible. It had never dawned on Jack before that Genji was just-- stark-fucking-naked, _all_ the damn time; how many times had he come _this_ close to seeing this before, he wondered, throughout all the months they’d spent together in the newly-reformed Overwatch? 

“Jack— _wh—_ ”

Without Jack’s hands holding him upright and his own grip having loosened, Genji lost his own balance, toppling and twisting as he knocked Jack to the ground— now entirely by accident.

 

* * *

 

Jack Morrison really hadn’t been expecting to get a face-full of cyborg ninja _pussy_ today, but, sometimes, if you were lucky, fate had very, _very_ specific plans for you.

 

* * *

 

“Why is it that the first time I see you wearing any clothes, they’re _mine_?” 

Genji’s only response was a wordless keening sound, wrists held tight in Jack’s grip as he squirmed, hips gyrating desperately as the soldier continued to tease him.

Jack hadn’t even bothered taking the jacket off of Genji yet, now much too focused on _this_ , on sex, on the primal urges that had sprung up the moment he’d laid eyes on the pretty secret Genji had been hiding between his legs. Genji had landed with his ass _right_ on his face, when they’d finally come to the climax of their little chase, and the sequence of events from that moment that’d led to this were still blurry in Jack’s mind’s eye, though he was sure he’d make some sense of it later.

There’d been pussy-juice— bright _green_ pussy-juice, of all things ( _Christ, Angela, where do you **get** these kinds of ideas—_) dripping from his mask when Genji had slid down his body, and Jack swore he’d never forget the exact noise Genji’d made when Jack touched it, dragged his fingers through the slick mess on his mouthpiece and _hummed_.

Things had gotten a little out of hand, after that; now they were here, with Genji bent in half, pinned to the very wall he’d been trying to utilize as an escape route, Jack’s gloved fingers tracing torturous circles around his clit.

“Jack,” Genji breathed, his face still obscured by his own mask. “Jack, _please_.” The cyborg’s hips seemed incapable of staying still beneath Jack’s ministrations, twitching and twisting with every new sensation; he was already so _wet_ , getting neon green juices all over Jack’s leather gloves before Jack even managed to slip a single finger inside of him.

Jack cocked his head, trailing two fingers down Genji’s soft, silicone labia, spreading them apart as he eyed Genji from behind his visor. “Brats like you _don’t_ get to beg.”

“Not fair,” Genji whined, twisting his hands helplessly beneath Jack’s unbreakable grip.

“Should’ve thought about that _before_ you stole my jacket,” Jack’s voice was like sandpaper, his lungs still burning from the chase— _not as young as I used to be;_ Genji wanted Jack’s mouth, wanted _it_ between his legs instead of that teasing hand. Wanted Jack to growl and hum and purr directly into his cunt, wanted to feel the vibrations deep inside as Jack ate him alive— “Are you listening to me, Genji?”

Genji swallowed, head dropping to the side to rest against his own elevated bicep. “... Yes.”

Jack pulled the hand between Genji’s thighs away, slapping the cyborg’s pussy with enough force that his entire body jumped, eliciting a startled, turned-on yelp from the younger man in the process. “Try _again_ ,” Jack urged, using his _Strike Commander_ voice this time, slick, gloved fingertips coming to rest atop Genji’s overworked clit and proceeding to rub it vigorously.

“Y- _Yes_ , yes _sir!_ ”

“Better,” Jack slid his fingers downward again, ignoring Genji’s shaky sigh of relief; _Christ_ , for all of his attitude, Genji sure was pretty like this, borderline-obedient and desperate for a good, hard fuck, unconcerned with what he’d have to do to get it.

Which, Jack supposed, _still_ made him a brat, no matter how well he responded to Jack’s scolding.

Jack finally released Genji’s wrists, but Genji held them above his own head as if nothing had changed, seemingly comfortable in such a submissive position. “Good,” Jack encouraged, which seemed to make every single part of Genji’s body light up in delight. _Cute_. “That’s good. Be a good boy.”

With both hands now at his disposal, Jack parted Genji’s swollen pussy lips with his thumbs, getting an explicit look at the fuck-hole he’d had installed as part of his cybernetic body. He was— he was _loose_ , and Jack knew that that could only be because he’d asked to be, which caused enough blood to rush between Jack’s legs that it actually made him dizzy. Shit, Genji was a _whore,_ momentarily subservient behavior be damned.

Once a brat, _always_ a brat.

“So,” Jack began, not bothering to offer Genji any warning before sliding two fingers into his drooling cunt, “did you _ask_ Angela for a sloppy porn star’s pussy, or did she just take liberty with you because you always act like such a slut?”

Genji swore in Japanese, fingers and toes curling, knees drawing inward as Jack began to finger him hard enough that he seemed incapable of catching his breath— or of offering up a legitimate response to Jack’s query. The cyborg buried his hands in Jack’s tank top, using it as leverage to pull himself closer, which only succeeded in burying Jack’s fingers even deeper into his hole. “You— you j-just said I was _good—_ ”

Jack laughed, his own self-control slipping away by the second, losing himself in the delectable, wet sounds of Genji’s cunt, becoming increasingly desperate to simply pull his dick out of his pants and give Genji a _real_ fuck. “Oh, _now_ you wanna be good, huh? Why’d you steal my jacket, then?”

“S-Sexy,” Genji managed to gasp out before Jack redoubled his efforts of finger-fucking him senseless, the muscles in his arm complaining so vehemently that he knew he’d probably be immobile later. “It’s— _sexy_ , and— wanted, _I_ -I wanted your— _attention—_ ”

“You stole my jacket because you wanted me to fuck you, is that it?”

Genji nodded, reaching between his own legs with trembling fingers to touch his own clit, obviously anxious to come— just as Jack dismissively slapped his hands away. “Ah-ah,” Jack chided, forcing Genji to lay on his back, hips elevated in the soldier’s lap as he continued to finger him into agonizing levels of ecstasy. “You’re gonna come like this, Genji; _from_ this, _just_ from getting your cute little pussy screwed by my fingers. Understand?”

“Yes, sir—”

Jack’s voice was like sex vocalized; Genji swore he could get off from listening to him alone, and the idea of doing something like phone sex with Jack practically made his stomach drop. God, he wanted to come— needed it, needed the release that Jack was denying him as part of his ‘punishment’— not that Genji felt much like he was being punished. Not with Jack’s gloved fingers knuckle-deep in his fuck-hole, Jack’s hard-on digging into his thigh, Jack’s voice in his ears—

Suddenly, Jack pushed a third finger in, while the middle and index fingers of his other hand pushed and pulled at Genji’s loose labia, stretching and toying with them as he stretched Genji’s hole out, his fingers thick enough that having three of them inside at once made him feel like he was choking. “C’mon, brat,” Jack urged, pulling Genji’s hips closer still, reveling in the broken-off sobs of pleasure each thrust of his fingers induced. “Give your old man a preview of what it’s gonna be like when you squirt all over my cock.”

“J— _Jack—_ _!_ ”

And that was it; Genji’s hips lifted off of Jack’s lap as his orgasm rushed through him, metallic voice cracking as he cussed and pleaded in half-English, half-Japanese. He didn’t _quite_ squirt, like Jack had hoped, even though enough cum drooled out of him as soon as Jack removed his fingers that it was _almost_ as satisfying as getting drenched.

Almost.

Jack allowed Genji to flop in the pool of his own juices, the cyborg’s thighs squeezed tightly together as he continued to ride out the full-bodied orgasm. “Messy boy,” Jack murmured, reaching up to remove the face plate of his mask and waiting only long enough to be certain that Genji was watching before dipping two cum-coated fingers into his own mouth. Genji _moaned_ , sluggishly hoisting himself up onto his elbows to get a better view of Jack’s impromptu meal. “Mm. _Does_ taste pretty good, though.”

“I— am _so_ going to get you back for all of that,” Genji said, still struggling to catch his breath— which made his threat a _little_ hard to take seriously. Jack chuckled, reaching down to cup his very-obvious erection through his pants.

“Gonna have to catch me first, ‘ _chibi_ ’.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, breakfast _was_ cold by the time they got back to headquarters.

“At least I’ll be, uh, ‘hydrated’ for at _least_ the rest of the week,” Jack whispered from just behind Genji, hard-won jacket slung over his shoulder, as the cyborg complained about the state of the food.

Genji let out enough steam that the kitchen turned into a sauna. 

Jack snorted, self-satisfied grin hidden behind his mask.  _Kids these days._

_They just don’t know how to take a damn joke._

[FIN]


End file.
